


Then one by one the stars would all go out

by ambiguously



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Minor Character Death, Smuggling, Space Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-18 13:22:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11875389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: After Rey's vision on Takodana, she ran away with Finn.





	Then one by one the stars would all go out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Artemis1000](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis1000/gifts).



Rey doesn't linger on regrets. Her own past is a blank sheet, one where she can barely make out the erased remnants of symbols in a language she doesn't know. She cannot recall the faces of her family, the ones who left her on Jakku so long ago, and now she's sure she will never see them again. She can't dwell on that loss, not without absorbing all the losses surrounding it, and those are enough to drown her like a young marsdet struggling uselessly in a sand wash.

There are no more marsdets. The species was native to Jakku, and Jakku is gone, obliterated by the red hot lancing eye of the Starkiller. It brings her no comfort to know Jakku was the last world blasted away by the First Order. The news of the Order's fall has reached them in static spurts here in the farthest reaches of the Outer Rim, a rebroadcast of a rebroadcast of news from a HoloNet that doesn't extend this far into space. Jakku perished and the First Order is gone.

Rey doesn't drink. She toasts the anniversary of the terrible victory with her cup of clear water, meeting Finn's eyes for a moment across the dim cantina. Finn nods to her once, then turns back to the three Mirialans he's bargaining with at a back table. Rey turns away, offering a friendly smile to the landlord and throwing in an extra tip. Water isn't as outrageously expensive on this planet as it was back on Jakku. Clean water, chilled and filtered, still tastes of extravagance despite the glare she received for ordering. The gratuity earns her a more amicable expression from the landlord.

She closes her eyes as she takes another sip of her water, opening her thoughts to the Mirialans.

They're suspicious of Finn. Humans are everywhere in the galaxy but human traders are notoriously untrustworthy out here. They've got five, no _six_ , disintegrator blasters hidden in their robes, and the tall one is considering using hers if she suspects Finn intends in any way to betray them.

Rey goes deeper into her trance.

The first time Rey discovered she could read others' minds, she frightened herself so much she almost crashed the ship. One moment, she was lifting off from a planet whose name she'd already forgotten, the next, as clear as day, she could hear the thoughts of their passengers. She blamed Maz Kanata, blamed touching the old relic of a lightsaber in the catacombs beneath Maz's place, and she was bitterly glad she'd run after Finn as soon as she'd fled that terrible vision. They'd escaped Takodana just in time before the First Order attacked, not content with wiping out Hosnian Prime and the other worlds.

She had thought she had escaped the hissing, buzzing destiny she'd felt in the ancient weapon's hilt. Instead, as time went on, Rey was becoming more and more aware of herself as a vessel containing some unknowable power. In another life, in a galaxy where the Jedi had not been exterminated over and over, she might have learned to channel these gifts. She dreams sometimes, in the stretches between star systems, of those other paths.

In this life, she uses her powers to get them work and to stay a few steps ahead of the legal systems on each world they visit.

Minds are malleable. Rey sits at the bar and she pushes the tall Mirialan's mind into trusting the human before her. Rey feels the shifting current of thought reshaping into a pleasing pattern. She will pay the fair price the human asks for transport of their goods. Rey withdraws, her own mission accomplished.

She leaves the bar, approaching the table with a calm, confident walk. Finn's face lights up as he sees her, because he is good at bargaining but terrible at hiding his emotions. "Finn?"

"Rey, these are our new clients, who prefer to remain anonymous." She hears the faint sigh as he says it. Building a customer base is hard when they can't get referrals by name. Finn gestured to Rey. "This is my partner, Rey. She's the best pilot in the Outer Rim." He says the words with pride, believing what he says. The Mirialans are less impressed. Every trader, smuggler, and pirate doing business claims to be the best. There's little reason for them to believe the young woman before them is any better or worse than the rest.

Rey nods to them, taking a seat beside Finn. Under the table, their legs rest against each other in warm, instinctive comfort. "May I assume the cargo is also anonymous?"

"You assume correctly," says the tall woman leading the other two, "Our brother," she indicates the male Mirialan, "will accompany you and our goods to its destination, to avoid any possible issues."

"That won't be necessary," Finn says.

Rey immediately adds, "But of course he is welcome to come along and see to the safety of the cargo." It's a soft play. They've practiced this same conflicting stance before, putting up the image of dissent before the clients to convince their customers to trust one of them more. Rey has spent her turns on both sides, listening with an understanding ear as today's passenger worries about Finn, or walking into a cabin to see Finn and their mark both watch her in careful concern.

They have both learned a lot about running cons since they started doing this. Part of her will always wonder if this is the same life she would be living had she said yes to Han's non-offer, traveling the galaxy in the Millennium Falcon with Han, Chewie, and Finn. She banishes the trailing thought with a shake of her head. She stands. "Our ship is in Hangar 2. Meet us there in an hour."

Finn follows her out of the cantina into the chilly light of day. Puffs of breath cloud in front of them as they make their way through the narrow streets. "How much did you get?" Rey asks, rubbing her arms.

"Three thousand. It's a short hop." He passes over the bulk of their payment to Rey, who needs to get them fuel, taking the chance to give her a quick peck on the cheek. His breath is warm and the air is cold, and Rey leans towards him for a little more comfort before they break away. "Any requests?"

"We're running low on hot grain. Check if they've got those Olon protein packs for sale."

Finn pockets the rest of the payment. "Hot grains. Protein packs. Got it." He'll pick up the rest of their supplies while she fuels the ship. "Back soon." Rey watches him go, wistful. He'd never used money before they made their way out here. Stormtroopers weren't paid. Now he drives bargains for every credit they can get, and spends them up to a tight line he keeps in his ledger. Fuel the ship, feed them both, save up for later in several accounts left in banks across their territory. They don't have much put away yet. Later is a long way off. He doesn't want to think about the past, either, but the future hangs before him like a golden promise, and Rey follows even if she can't yet see the same vision Finn does.

* * *

An hour later, Finn has finished putting away their supplies and sits nervously beside Rey as she performs the pre-flight checks. "I have a weird feeling about this," he says, and it's half a question.

Rey considers. "I don't. It's a standard run." Her confidence calms him. Finn relies on her gifts more and more these days, and he trusts her instincts.

"Okay."

From outside, the Mirialans approach. Their cargo container is bulky, the size of three normal crates. The smaller woman, the youngest of the three, pushes it along with a gravlift. They walk slowly, a heaviness to their steps Rey can't unlock from a quick brush to their minds.

Finn sees her mood. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

They lower the ramp and meet their clients. The tall woman says, "My brother will load our cargo on your ship. Please show him where it will stay." She pauses, placing her hands in her brother's grip. "Have a safe trip."

"I want to go with Tion," the other woman says. It's the first Rey has heard her speak, and her voice is young, perhaps no more than Finn's age, perhaps as young as Rey.

Her siblings give her a harsh stare. "No," her sister tells her, and this isn't the first time she's had this argument. "You will travel with me."

"No extra charge," Rey says quickly. "You can all travel with your cargo."

"My brother will go," the tall one repeats.

The man, Tion, says, "If it's all the same, I'd be happier if Shila came with me."

Their sister turns her glare onto him and shares it with Shila. "Do you remember when we talked about not revealing our names?"

Both reply, "Yes, sister," in a patient monotone.

Changing her glare to Finn and Rey, she takes each sibling by the arm and walks them to another part of the hangar. Finn shares a look of his own with Rey, but they can talk later. Neither has ever had to deal with family problems. Somewhere out in the galaxy, they might have a dozen siblings each, but here and now, they only have each other.

The three Mirialans return. The elder sister says, with as much dignity as she can, "My brother and sister will accompany our cargo." Rey catches the quickly-hid smile of triumph on Shila's face before she matches her sister's staid composure. Finn leads Tion and Shila to the back of the ship with the cargo hold. Rey nods to their sister. As she heads up the ramp towards the cockpit, she senses an emotion from the tall woman watching her. Grief.

* * *

Rey rejoins Finn and their passengers as soon as they are in hyperspace. He's showing them the guest cabin where they will sleep, which has four hideaway bunks. Rey expects the pair to retire to the cabin. Instead, they thank Finn and ask to return to the cargo hold.

"Through there," he points. The ship isn't that big. He waits until they've gone, then cocks his head towards their own cabin across the corridor. Inside, and the door closed, he sits down and lets out a breath. "I still say there's something weird going on."

"They don't mean us any harm," Rey says, sure of her own words. "But you're right. They're hiding something." She sits beside him on their bunk. "We'll reach our destination tomorrow, and dinner isn't for hours." She gives him a smile. "Care to fill the time?"

Finn catches her drift immediately, and his face slides into the handsome half-smile she knows so well. "Of course. Maybe a rousing hand of sabacc? Some dejarik?"

Rey kisses him, a half-smile of her own pressing against his lips until his mouth opens against hers. They've been traveling together for almost two years, and haven't parted for more than a few hours since the day they met back on a desert world that's gone now. They've had to learn everything together, relying on luck to survive, relying on the strong bond which formed that first day to keep them whole, relying on each other to build this life until there is no room for anything else between them.

Finn's hands are more sure than they were the first time he pulled the edges of her shirt over her head, but the sweet, awed expression on his face as he bends in to kiss her bare neck is the same. Rey knows the places on his skin to rasp her nails against, drawing pleased gasps, and knows how to twist her body against his as they push back onto the bunk together, enough pressure between their still-clothed hips to entice him. Kissing him slowly, the heel of her hand works against the warm bulge growing in his trousers, and she tastes his growl.

When they're alone between jobs, they take their time. Today, there are passengers in the cargo bay, and no matter how well they've set the locks for the other cargo loads they're hauling, neither wants to leave the Mirialans alone too long. This is about quick comfort for the sore places inside Rey's heart. Today is the anniversary of the First Order's defeat, and she will always wonder if she could have helped had she stayed.

They'll talk later, wrapped together for sleep here in this dark cabin, only the low rumble of the engines and the thump of their hearts to break the silence. Now she reaches for him, unsnapping his belt and shimmying her hand inside his trousers, biting down on his tongue as she pulls his prick free.

"Are you---"

"I'm fine," she breathes into his mouth, and her own clothes push away easily before she sinks down onto him. She isn't as wet as she could be, not awash with her own desire nor licked into readiness by his clever mouth. The push burns into her, but it's good, tight, with a friction she doesn't always feel when she's warm and wet and ready. She rises and falls over him, enjoying the push of his hips and the solid muscles guiding his legs. They've talked about children, and someday, when they're both sure, she wants to take him into herself this same way, watching the pleasure-pain moving across his face as it does now, squeezing him as she rides him.

It's hard to kiss him this way, hard on her back, but she tries, and enjoys the twist of his jaw as he whispers filthy words, swears he was trained never to say, bursting from him in a wicked torrent, and his eyes gleam in the low light as he enjoys the freedom.

Rey's freedoms are different to his. She has the freedom to roam the galaxy, flying wherever their jobs and their interests take her. She has the freedom to indulge in long showers under hot or cold water, with Finn's fingers to massage her back or help wash the tangles from her hair. She has the freedom to take this time here with her best friend, easing her pleasure from him and giving it in return, her hand between them, rubbing herself and stroking him as he buries himself deeper.

He growls again, and a moment later he comes, legs thrusting his hips hard into her, hard enough to bruise, and Rey takes that rough pain, coiling it through her to push herself over into her own climax. Tomorrow, he'll kiss every mark on her hips and thighs, sinking his tongue in deep. Now, she rests against him for a moment, enjoying the closeness as he stays thick inside her, only slowly softening as she nuzzles his chin. Finn's arm enfold her. Rey has never felt this safe in all her life. But safe never lasts.

"We should shower," she says, pushing against his shoulder before he falls asleep under her.

"We should get dirtier," he says with a sleepy grin.

He's right.

* * *

After their shower, Rey takes a moment for herself in the cockpit, staring out into the soothing blue of hyperspace. Her muscles are pleasantly relaxed from the shower. The serenity extends out around her, allowing her to sense there's a greater power compared with which she is but a bright spark. In this calm state, she realizes there's something she's been sensing this whole time without understanding or seeing.

There are two sparks shining behind her in the cargo bay, bright and steady, just like her. She's never felt this odd connection with anyone she's met, not during her waking hours and only once during her vision on Takodana. The brother and sister they are transporting are like Rey.

There's a third spark inside the cargo crate.

* * *

Over dinner, Rey watches the pair carefully as they fidget through their meal. The food isn't great. Rey isn't much of a cook but she prepares the meals because she's spent most of her life feeding herself while Finn had every meal cooked for him since birth. Even now he's more comfortable with his flight lessons than his cooking lessons.

The Mirialans aren't displeased with the food. They are simply eager to return to the discomfort of the cargo bay to guard their container.

Finn attempts to make conversation with them anyway. "I like your hat," he says to Shila, who takes the compliment with a brief smile.

"This is a lovely ship," she replies out of courtesy. Their transport is rather squat and unattractive, more like a lumpen brick given flight, but Rey has tinkered with the engines to give them extra boosts, and they've both tried to add personal touches to the décor.

"Thanks," Rey says. "The exterior could use some repairs. We'll probably stay in port for a while after we dock at Ferro to install the parts. We could always transport you back when you're finished with your business there." She's angling for information, keeping her voice incurious but open.

Shila says, "Thank you, but that won't be necessary. Nara will be joining us and we will travel home in her ship."

"Let me know if you change your mind. Her ship must be small."

"Why do you say that?"

Rey takes a bite of her mash. "If your crate won't fit inside." Under the table, she feels Finn's foot pressing against hers in warning.

"There's plenty of room," Shila says. "That's how we got it to Thalassia."

Tion gives his sister a look over his spoonful of protein mash, and Shila returns to her food, embarrassment over her face.

Rey makes no expression, as though she hasn't noticed the slip. She and Finn are, after all, smugglers. Their clients often demand privacy, as long as they agree to abide by the terms. They don't have many terms. Laws are pick and choose out here, and what is legal on one planet is desirable yet illegal merchandise on another.

But they don't haul sentients, not as cargo. Rey bites her food and her tongue and waits.

* * *

The siblings take turns in the cargo hold for the overnight watch. Shila sleeps while Tion remains by the crate, and she relieves him sometime in the middle of the ship's night. Rey extends her own senses out enough to sense their movements. In the darkness of their quarters, Finn reads her face. "Tell me."

"I think there's someone in the crate."

"You think?"

"I know. I can sense them. They must have bought whoever it is from Thalassian slavers."

Finn is silent for a moment, considering. "When's our arrival?"

"Around breakfast time."

They have weapons, but they'd be foolish to think their passengers aren't armed. A shoot-out in hyperspace will kill them all with the first blaster bolt through the side of the hull. "All right. We need a plan."

* * *

Rey toggles the full-ship comm. "Prepare for landing. It looks like we're in for a hard ride." She gives the controls as much extra bounce as she dares. The winds are stiff this high up, buffeting them and helping the illusion while she rocks the transport. "Take your seats!"

She waits. In a moment, a blue light flickers on her panel: Finn's signal. Their passengers are buckled in against the turbulence.

Rey does one last check of their landing coordinates and flips on the autopilot. Then she uses the hidden access panel from the cockpit to make her way past the small passenger section unseen as she slips out to the cargo hold. She hasn't lost the feeling that brought her here as she hurries with the tractor lock holding the crate securely in place. Her own footing is steady as they switch over to full planetary gravity, but she doesn't have long until the flight smooths out for touchdown and her passengers return for their property.

It's an electronic lock, of course. Rey and Finn are the proud owners of many electronic lockpicks. She closes her eyes and holds her hand over her various picks now, letting the strange energy she uses guide her hand into choosing the right one.

The lock clicks open. Rey flips the latch.

"Stop!" Shila shouts at her, grasping onto the opening door from the passenger area. Finn is right behind her, but Tion is already shoving him against the bulkhead.

Their ship is coming in towards the dock. Rey gauges her luck, knowing the ship will jerk as they land. She'll have the advantage then. She stalls now, and her voice is lit with anger.

"There's someone in here. We don't smuggle slaves."

Shila's face breaks with anger of her own. "Neither do we!"

"No sentient cargo," Finn says, out of breath from Tion's attack, which despite the force seemed strangely non-violent. "That was the agreement."

Before Shila can stop her, Rey flips open the crate. Inside, a Mirialan woman is in stasis. She's old, wrinkles creasing her facial tattoos, and she's dressed in what to Rey's eye looks like an expensive dress. Only as Rey's gaze clears and takes in more detail, from the sagging skin at the cheeks and neck, and the bruised, sunken look of the eyes, does she realize the truth.

This is not a stasis chamber for the living. This is a preservation pod for the dead.

She looks at Shila, whose own face is drawn into a quiet grief. Rey drops her eyes, ashamed at her own suspicion and feeling the surge of heartache from where Tion stands beside Finn. "Who was she?"

"Our mother."

Rey shakes her head, denying not the story but the proof of her own senses. "I can sense her. Why can I sense her?"

Shila comes up beside her, placing her hand against the clear face of her mother's coffin. She says something to the body, which Rey cannot hear and knows she should not. She steps back as Shila closes the cover, and latches the lock. Then she takes a deep breath. "Our species has a deep connection with the Force, even after death, and our mother was powerful. She died a year ago, and I can still sense her here."

Tion says, "She's forbidden to be laid to rest on Mirial. The law says she shouldn't be buried on Ferro, but Ferro is as close as we dare to bringing her home."

"I'm sorry," Rey says. "I should have asked."

"We would not have told you," said Tion. "It was none of your concern. Nor is it now. We agreed for you to bring us here, no questions asked."

Shila said, "You will still need to get us past the customs inspection." She tilts her head. "As we also agreed."

"On it," Finn says, going back to the cockpit. Tion goes with him.

"You called it the Force," Rey says. "That connection. I can feel it with both of you."

"Yes." Her eyes are on the crate, and sorrow lives there, muted by time but no less deep for its passage.

"Would you rather she be buried on Mirial?"

Shila's head snaps up. "What kind of question are you asking for no questions asked?"

"A good one."

Shila pauses then nods. "Our other mother is already buried there. Mother could not visit her gravesite."

Rey can still feel the pulse of the Force, from the woman beside her, from the sad old woman inside the container. She imagines the pulse of this connection rising out from all of them, imagines never again being close enough to Finn to feel when he walks onto the ship, or rests next to her during the long ship's night.

"Contact your sister," Rey says, touching Shila's hand before she goes to the cockpit. "Tell her to meet us on Mirial."

Shila rises with hope, then shakes her own head. "You won't get through. The customs inspectors are too thorough. We've tried bringing her home before." Rey pictures that all too clearly, three children carrying the burden of their mother's remains as one final duty to her.

"You didn't have us as your transport before. We promised to deliver you and your cargo to your destination, no trouble from the authorities. It would be our pleasure to take you there."

* * *

No customs agents has ever found Rey and Finn's secret hold, and the Mirialan inspectors don't have a chance to look. Rey brings them in via an unannounced path, flying above the regular sensors before swooping down to skim the planet's surface beneath the other sweeps. Finn watches her fly, pride and amusement on his face. He'll be this good one day, but today he's happy to let Rey bring them through the atmosphere on a much smoother path than their approach to Ferro was.

Nara meets them at the rendezvous point.

"Are you sure you weren't seen?" she demands as soon as she's assured herself her siblings are safe.

"Positive," Rey says, and stands back as the family solemnly slides the cargo container down the ramp with as much dignity as they can. It's planetside night, and the stars glitter around them, as well as the lights from the none-too-distant city. The family cemetary isn't as well-lit, and they take advantage of the lone guard's inattention as they approach from a darkened corner. The only sounds they make are the soft step of boot tread and the low hum of the gravlift, and these are swallowed up by the raucous chittering of night-insects as they find the place where the siblings' first mother is buried.

Smugglers have many tools, and they use the ground mover, specially designed for silent work, to make their task simpler. The stasis field drops at Nara's touch, and she is the one to reach in and gently lift her mother's body out, placing it with sorrowful love into the grave atop the deeper grave.

Rey hangs back with Finn, there to help, not to interfere as each of the three takes a turn whispering last goodbyes. He wraps his arm around her. She rests against him. The night air is warm, and smells of fading flowers whose names Rey doesn't know, and of overturned dirt, which they will set back into place long before daybreak. Around her she feels the presence of the Force, communing here with those who have rejoined its welcoming light.

* * *

Rey lifts their ship off and makes for orbit before she runs the hyperspace calculations. They have enough fuel to drop off their other cargo hauls and get far away before they have to take on more work. They'll get work, of course. This is who they are. This is what they do. In another life, Rey would be studying the Force like some vast ocean of knowledge she was only too eager to dive into like that first deep pool they found, twelve systems away from Takodana. In this one, they have a ship to fuel, and themselves to feed, and new jobs to find.

Finn waits in the back, staring at his old, worn jacket.

He looks at her when she comes beside him. "I don't remember my family," he says, knowing she knows, and knowing she does not remember her own. He brushes the sleeve of the jacket. "I met and lost a friend on my first day of freedom, and then I found you, and you're my family now."

"Do you want to search for your home?" she asks. Her own chance is lost, gone with Jakku. She threads their fingers together. "The First Order may have left records." She doesn't say they can go back.

"This is my home," he replies, and squeezes her fingers. "Wherever you are, that's home."


End file.
